


Never Knew I Could Feel Like This

by wowbright



Category: Glee
Genre: First Time, Lots of talk of sex, M/M, Season/Series 02-03 Hiatus, and half of the story takes place while they're having sex, but the depictions aren't very graphic because I am a prude. Also, cursing.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowbright/pseuds/wowbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Before he started dating Blaine, Kurt had no interest in the graphic details of sex. Now, they're all he can think about. So he sits down with his dad to discuss the meaning of the word "inappropriate."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Knew I Could Feel Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaryFlanner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryFlanner/gifts).
  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Never Knew I Could Feel Like This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428627) by [Klaineship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaineship/pseuds/Klaineship)



> **Spoilers:** Original Song  
>  **Disclaimer:**  I own nothing, not even Kurt Hummel's beautiful heart. Title from "Come What May" from the _Moulin Rouge_ soundtrack _._  
>  **A/N:** I read [](http://mary-flanner.livejournal.com/profile)[**mary_flanner**](http://mary-flanner.livejournal.com/)'s [](http://mary-flanner.livejournal.com/12093.html)_Sword and Shield_ , which has a disturbing scene illustrating how an ignoramus cop might treat two boys making out in a parked car. I wondered what would have happened if Kurt had anticipated this and prevented it, and ended up with this slightly angsty, but mostly fluffy, piece. No violence, all love.

It feels like it has taken forever to get to this moment, pulling the last piece of clothing from Blaine Anderson's body. Although, really, it has only taken about four and a half minutes.

It started out innocently enough. It was going to be a quiet Saturday afternoon of studying followed by a movie, then maybe dinner with the Hudson-Hummels. But Carole noticed this morning that the maple tree outside the kitchen window was turning and asked Burt if he wanted to drive north to see the leaves change. Burt sidled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and murmured, "That is the best idea I have ever heard."

Finn and Kurt rolled their eyes at each other across the breakfast table, but really, Kurt thought it was sweet. A little close to PDA, but technically, they weren't in public. And since The Talk with his dad a couple of months ago, Kurt has decided that Burt Hummel has earned the right to engage in PDA whenever he wants. Burt Hummel is a goddamn saint.

So Burt and Carole are gone until after sunset, and Finn is away at another school for a football game. Kurt and Blaine did try to study for a while, but their study of the intricacies of French grammar quickly devolved into a discussion of _le petit mort_ and whether _venir_ has the same double meaning in French as it has in English. Which led them to the bed, which led them to _this_ – Kurt trying to pull Blaine's navy briefs off with his teeth.

Blaine, who was moaning uncontrollably a second ago when Kurt darted his tongue near Blaine's waistband, has collapsed into a cascade of giggles. "What are you doing?" he snorts.

Kurt unclenches his teeth from the outside edge of the legband and kisses Blaine's thigh before looking up. "I'm trying to debrief you," he says. "That wasn't obvious?"

"Pretty obvious," says Blaine. "It just tickles."

"Good tickle or bad tickle?" says Kurt.

"I'm not sure. I guess it depends what it turns into." He raises his eyebrows lasciviously at Kurt.

Kurt fucking _loves_ that look. He dives toward Blaine's face and – _wow_ – this was where it all started, where everything started, Blaine's smile and Blaine's laugh and Blaine's mouth, starving and clinging to _Kurt._ Initially, Kurt had worried that moving past kissing would mean leaving it behind, that they would forget about the simple pleasure of driving each other wild by touching their lips and teeth and tongues and breath. But it hasn't. Kurt can still kiss Blaine for hours – occasionally interspersed with a few other things – and never, _never_ tire of it.

Although Kurt does sometimes get a little distracted. Like now, the way Blaine is moaning at the touch of Kurt's finger on his earlobe, pressing his hips into Kurt, grabbing onto the small of Kurt's back and just – _wow._ It makes Kurt delirious and wild, makes Kurt want to drive Blaine over the edge – a good edge, but an edge nonetheless. He pulls away from Blaine's lips and drags his mouth to Blaine's ear, mouthing at the earlobe, tugging gently with his teeth, feeling Blaine swell beneath him and listening to him yelp in pleasure.

Kurt drags his hand down the side of Blaine's torso. Blaine whimpers when Kurt twists his body slightly away, but moans again and grabs onto Kurt's hair like it's a fucking life preserver when Kurt slips his hand under Blaine's waistband. And Kurt, who is usually so good and quick with words, completely loses his faculty of language and can only think _Wow. This. Is. Wow._

Blaine, on the other hand, never seems to lose his ability to speak. "Oh, Kurt," he gasps when Kurt squeezes, "do you know what you do to me? I think you do. I think you do it on purpose. I think you like to see me this way." Kurt answers by lowering his lips to Blaine's neck and sucking hard.

The talking has become endearing to Kurt, although it freaked him out at first. He couldn't quite reconcile that Blaine could be enjoying himself and _still_ string a grammatically correct sentence together. But the evidence of Blaine's body, his hands, his flushed face and his kisses are hard to ignore. Blain enjoys this _a lot_ , enjoys all of it – Kurt's hands on him and Kurt's tongue on him and watching Kurt flush and making Kurt speechless.

The last of which, Blaine has had to get used to. He has had to learn to take a gesture and a grab and a grunt and a groan for "Yes" and "Please do this" and "That's more than alright" and "I love you."

Kurt makes up for his speechlessness by talking about sex when they're not having it. And not just in the "I'm sorry you're on the other end of the phone line or we're out in public so I can only whisper the things I want to do to you and not actually do them" way. He used to think that talking about sex that way was unnecessary and unromantic. Until –

It was a little while after they started going out. They were kissing and clinging and grabbing in the backseat of the Navigator and – with no thinking and all wanting – Kurt clutched his hand to Blaine's zipper.

Blaine startled back.

Kurt's old fears of rejection screamed in his brain. He couldn't say anything, just disentangle himself from Blaine, stare at those wide, surprised eyes and will himself not to cry.

"No," gasped Blaine, "it's not that. I want that. I've _really, really_ wanted that. You have no idea." Blaine inched back toward Kurt, put one hand on Kurt's cheek. "I just wasn't expecting that. I assumed – I assumed that you would want to go slower."

Kurt could feel the adrenaline ebbing, his breath becoming more regular, the pressure fading from behind his eyes. "I thought so, too," said Kurt. "But – "

He wasn't sure what to say next. There were so many thoughts and non-thoughts darting around his head, but he couldn't slow them down enough to make sense of them. Blaine just looked at him, scared but patient, his face glowing in the early twilight, and Kurt knew that Blaine would wait for as long as it took for Kurt to piece his words together. That helped.

"Remember how, before we started going out, I told you that I didn't think the graphic details were very romantic?"

Blaine winced, composed himself, smiled. "How can I forget?"

Blaine closed his hands on Kurt's, calming their trembling, but Kurt's voice still shook. "Blaine, _all_ I can think about now are the graphic details. And I get so many feelings inside. I thought romance was all candles and flowers and holding hands, but when I think about making you feel that way, about us feeling that way together, it's more romantic to me than all the roses grown in Chile."

The stiff, nervous tension melted from Blaine's mouth, jaw, eyes. His lips parted, and Kurt waited, thinking this was promising, that Blaine would say something reassuring, when –

 _Wham!_ Blaine's face was back in Kurt's, his tongue tracing along Kurt's front teeth and, _oh, speechless again._ Kurt could feel his heart – or was it Blaine's heart? – pounding in his ears. And when he reached down this time, Blaine didn't stop him. Blaine's face – the desire and the need and the pinkness and the beauty – Kurt had always known that Blaine was beautiful, but this was beyond beautiful. It filled Kurt with awe.

They started to talk about sex after that, because Blaine needed to. Blaine needs the exactness and clarity of words to make desire, feeling, emotion a tangible thing. And Kurt's willing – eager, actually – to give that to him. Blaine needs Kurt to tell him _how_ he wants him, needs to tell Kurt the same. And Kurt has been surprised by how easy it can be to talk about the graphic details, how affectionate and strong it makes him feel. (Although he still does collapse into giggles at the thought of the words "frottage" and "prostate." Seriously, those must be the two most unromantic-sounding words in the English language next to "gargoyle.")

\---------

"You know," says Blaine, pulling away from Kurt's lips, which would be so _unfair_ except that Blaine is panting and his eyes are dark and hungry, and Kurt can forgive the momentary separation of their mouths if it means he gets to look at _this._ "It is entirely unjust that either of us still have any clothes on." Blaine moves to sit up and Kurt straddles his thighs, and they tug at each others' lips, tongues, ears as Blaine undoes the last button on Kurt's shirt and pulls it back off Kurt's shoulders, sliding it down his arms and flinging it to the floor. (Kurt has really had to step up on his ironing since he started dating Blaine.) Blaine surges forward to press his chest against Kurt's, and this is one of the most delicious feelings in the world, so much skin and so much Blaine.

Blaine chuckles with his mouth on Kurt's earlobe.

"Share the joke?" whispers Kurt, who is now used to Blaine finding odd slices of humor in the most serious moments.

"'The beast with two backs,'" Blaine says, still lingering on Kurt's ear. "It's a line from _Othello_. Iago says it. It's what people look like having sex face-to-face."

"Fuck, you're romantic," groans Kurt, playfully pushing Blaine away.

Blaine pulls Kurt back down to the bed with him, holding his face in both hands and gazing at him in that way that makes Kurt's stomach flip. "I love being face-to-face with you." Blaine kisses him so gently it almost makes Kurt's heart burst.

"But first," Blaine says as he pulls away, "I need to get your pants off."

Oh, the _glory_.

None of this – this, this, wonderful _this_ – would be happening without Blaine's insistent talking. Learning to be open with Blaine has made Kurt recognize when it's safe and necessary to tell other people in his life – the right people in his life, the ones he knows love him – what he's thinking, too. Not the way he usually does it, with cutting words and snappy sarcasm. But quietly, gently – taking the risk that they might hurt him because he knows they won't.

It's what gave Kurt the courage to have The Talk with his dad.

\---------

Burt Hummel walked into the kitchen for their Thursday evening father-son bonding time, expecting to find the ingredients for red currant crepes lined neatly on the island. But there were no ingredients, just Kurt leaning against the sink, absentmindedly twirling a wooden spoon in his hand.

"Hi Dad." Kurt looked up.

"Do you need help getting out the ingredients?"

"No," said Kurt. "We're not cooking tonight."

"Oh," said Burt, raising his eyebrows. "You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad." Kurt gestured over to the table. "Sit down. I poured you a beer."

"Thanks," said Burt, pulling back his chair. "But I thought you thought beer was just empty calories."

"A little alcohol is good for your heart," chirped Kurt, sitting down across from his father. "And anyway, you're going to need it."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Kurt. He inhaled deeply – _keep calm, carry on_ – and started. "Dad, this isn't going to be easy for you, and it's not going to be easy for me, so I just need you to listen and not react until I'm done. Okay?"

Burt eyed him warily. "I'll try. What's this about?"

"Remember when you got upset about Blaine sleeping over that time because I hadn't asked you?"

"Yeah."

"And you said you didn't want me to be inappropriate with Blaine?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think we need to define 'inappropriate.'"

"Oh."

Another deep breath. "Dad, I'm in love with Blaine."

"I know."

"And I know I probably sound like a stupid teenager to you, and maybe I am, but I never thought it could be like this. I mean, I didn't expect to find this in Ohio, and I didn't expect to find it before I was 25, and I didn't expect it to – I didn't expect to feel _so much._ Dad, it's not just carnations and love songs and fluffy bunnies. Blaine makes me feel whole. He makes me feel strong. He makes me see amazing things in myself that I never knew were there."

Burt was looking at Kurt, nodding his head, and Kurt wondered if the nod was just acknowledgement of what he had said, or agreement. He couldn't tell from his dad's eyes. All he could read there was that Burt Hummel was emotional and flustered, and holding up admirably. He felt a wave of affection for his dad at that moment – a wave that made getting the next words out a little easier.

"Dad, there aren't enough words in the world for me to tell Blaine how much I love him. And I know we're young. If I could have planned it all out, I would have waited to fall in love like this until I was older. But I couldn't. Blaine is Blaine. Touching him, being with him – it feels like the most _appropriate_ thing in the world. I'm so safe with him."

Burt studied Kurt's face, took a sip of his beer. "Do you want me to say something?"

"In a minute. There's something else," said Kurt, trying to steady his voice. "I know this is a lot to ask of you. I know it's uncomfortable and weird and it would be better if I just waited to have sex until I was 30. But I'm not going to. And, yeah, we could just keep using the back of the Navigator – " _okay, maybe that was a bit too much_ , Kurt thought as his Dad cleared his throat. But he didn't want to deceive his dad, pretend that this hasn't already started, let his dad think that with a simple _no_ , what's happening between Kurt and Blaine could stop.

"Sorry, Dad. I need to be honest with you. I've heard – we’ve both heard – what can happen to two boys caught parking in an empty lot." Kurt noticed that familiar flicker of protectiveness in his father's eyes. "And I don't want to sneak off and hide it from you like it's something to be ashamed of. Because it's not. We really, _really_ care about each other."

Kurt took a deep, faltering breath and wiped the back of his hand over his cheeks. "Okay, Dad. Please ignore the waterworks. It's your turn."

Burt sighed and took another sip of his beer. He lowered the glass to the table heavily, then pushed it away. "Kurt," he said. "Do you remember that other talk we had?"

"With the pamphlets? Yes."

"Do you remember what I said?"

"That I shouldn't have sex until I'm 30 and I shouldn't sleep around?"

"Kind of," Burt sighed. "What I meant the take-home to be is that I want you to experience sex when you're ready, as a way to connect to another person. Because sex that way, Kurt, it's really something. And I never want it to be less than that for you."

Burt pulled the beer back toward him. "When you were born, I had it all planned in my head. I was going to tell you to wait until you were married or at least until you were engaged – even though God knows I didn't – because I had made mistakes and I didn't want you to make the same ones. I hurt people, Kurt, and they hurt me, and then I found your mother and it was – different. It was special. I'd had _no idea_ that it could be like that between two people." A pause, a sigh. "And then it became clear that I was never going to be able to tell you that, because – yeah, maybe things changed in Massachusetts, but then – . Kurt, I try not to pay attention to politics, but the voters of this state had the _gall_ to vote that _my son_ cannot get married. So, really, _screw_ their goddamn morals." He slapped his hand on the table with a resounding _thwup!_ that made the beer slosh around in its glass.

That fury in his father's voice, his father's eyes – sometimes, that's all the love that Kurt needs. "Oh, god, I need a Kleenex," said Kurt. "Hold on." Kurt shuffled to grab a box from the kitchen windowsill, then sat back down. "Okay."

Burt steadied his voice. "I know Blaine really cares about you. I can see it in the way he is around you, in the way he interacts with the whole family. That first time he came over to the garage, and half of me wanted to kick him for being out of line, but half of me just saw – He didn't even know it. But I could see it. I could see how much he loves you."

"Oh – "

"And I'm sorry about that lecture when Blaine slept over. I didn't know him then, and I knew you were crazy about him, and I thought he was taking advantage of you. I was scared for you, Kurt. I am so tired of seeing people think it's okay to hurt you. Kurt, when we had that talk, I thought that 'inappropriate' meant sex, it meant making out – jeez, it meant holding hands. Because I had lost all faith in the world, Kurt. I couldn't _imagine_ that there was someone in Lima, Ohio, who was good enough for you, and I didn't want you throwing away your heart on some douchebag who was just in it for kicks."

Kurt pulled the Kleenex away from his cheek and smirked. "Can I tell Blaine you thought he was a douchebag?"

Burt laughed. "You can tell Blaine whatever you want, Kurt. Because it doesn't change what I know now. I know that he's good to you and he cares about you and he's the most decent kid I know next to my own two sons. I can't pretend that I'm not afraid that you two will grow apart, that you'll hurt each other without meaning to. But that risk is there whether you two are intimate or not. Kurt, I'm really not thrilled about the idea of you having sex, but I won't be thrilled about it when you're 40, either. And I don't want you putting yourself in dangerous situations because you think you can't be safe under my roof. Just –"

"Just what, Dad?"

"If you really are ready to be more intimate, take it slow. It's not a race to the finish line. You don't have to do everything at once."

Kurt felt himself blush.

They hugged then, for a long time.

Of course, there are ground rules. Like not flaunting it to Finn, and keeping it to the bedroom, and not spending all day locked in the bedroom ignoring the rest of the family (like Kurt would ever, _ever_ think of having sex with Blaine while any of them were home – unless maybe they were all _very_ asleep), and going to his parents if it gets to be too much for him to handle, and not letting Blaine pressure him into anything he's not comfortable with, and vice versa. And that Burt will talk to Blaine – _oh, poor, brave Blaine._ And they don't exactly say this, but it's clear to both Kurt and his dad that Kurt does not have _cart blanche_ to bring other boys into his bedroom – like Kurt would ever want to – because this agreement, it's not about sex in general. It's about this incredible, frightening, wonderful thing between Kurt and Blaine.

They have mostly followed Burt's advice not to rush it, getting used to each new thing before trying the next. They've tried hands, which are elation; and mouths, which are bliss; and they've tried – okay, there _really_ needs to be another word for frottage. Kurt thinks _heaven_ will do. Blaine has told Kurt that he imagines Kurt inside him, but they haven't tried that yet. They are learning slowly about each others' bodies, because they have time – but also because they are teenagers and, while the fantasy is intriguing, they usually both end up coming too soon to get to that point.

They agree that one of the advantages of being gay is that there are so many ways to have sex. It's not that straight people have fewer ways – it's just that straight people seem to count fewer things as sex. Which is really kind of sad. Because, while who puts what where is certainly interesting and a lot of fun, it's not what makes sex powerful. The power they feel comes from being naked and vulnerable and amazed together.

That's what Kurt feels now. All their clothes are blessedly gone and Blaine has flipped them over. Kurt feels Blaine's lovely, lovely weight pressing down on him. He will never get over the feeling of their chests touching, will never tire of running his fingertips along the muscles of Blaine's arms, his back, his ass.

"Oh, God, Kurt," moans Blaine – because pretty much everything he says when they are like this comes out in a moan – "I need your finger inside me."

Kurt grips Blaine's arms and turns him onto his back, pins him to the bed with his body. Talking is _so, so, so_ fucking awesome.

They haven't done this before, and if Blaine had just gone along with Kurt's adolescent ideas about not thinking ahead and getting swept away on the moment, Kurt wouldn't be prepared to do this. But Blaine has talked about this and talked about this – enough so that Kurt finally decided to try it on himself and, to his mild surprise, _huh_ – and so there is lube in the nightstand and Kurt is so, so ready to make Blaine lose it.

Kurt takes it slow, feels Blaine's body reacting, relaxing around Kurt's languid touch until, "Oh. There. Oh, Kurt." Kurt kisses Blaine's neck, feels Blaine's fingers entwine in his hair as he drags his tongue down Blaine's chest to the place he loves so much.

"Oh, Kurt, God. You love me," Blaine gasps before he completely disassembles.

Kurt loves how Blaine can be like this with him, so completely _not_ in control. It is so different than the boy Kurt thought he knew for those first few months – the one who was always cool and calm and knew just what to say and do. That was just what Kurt needed at that point, someone so opposite from him, someone to balance the heat and turbulence and confusion Kurt constantly felt. It helped Kurt grow braver, steadier, more sure of himself – until he didn't need a mentor and a guide anymore. He needed an equal. And then he saw Blaine unwrap before him, peel off his outer layer of certainty and expose the trembling, unsure boy that he never let anyone see.

Blaine's humanness makes Kurt love him even more. He wants to wrap himself around Blaine and protect him from the pain and reality that have made Kurt too cynical and too wary. Kurt needs Blaine to be Blaine, optimistic and vulnerable and kind. It gives Kurt hope that the world is made of more than judgment and cruelty and blows to the heart. It is made of love, too.

\--------------------------

 


End file.
